


For Good Luck

by Rose_in_crayons



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Shiro is a flirt and Adam is a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 13:43:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18550957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_in_crayons/pseuds/Rose_in_crayons
Summary: Adam is nervous before the first Quidditch match of his fifth-year season. Shiro offers him advice, and a little bit of help.





	For Good Luck

Adam didn’t like to show it, but he really was nervous. 

The first Quidditch game of his fifth year was already here, after two short weeks back at school, and he could already feel his stomach roiling with unease. 

He’d been practicing for this all summer. This was his time to shine as one of the few upperclassmen on the team, and he knew he was good enough to be a real asset. He’d followed his normal morning routine to a T, same time getting up, same re-reading of a few chapters of _Quidditch Through the Ages_ , same two slices of toast for breakfast. 

So why was he feeling so damn _nervous_ about this? 

He hesitated for another minute before attempting to extricate himself from the bench with a reluctant sigh. 

It was time to go. 

He suddenly felt an incredibly familiar presence behind him. “Need help, old man?” 

Adam turned around, looking up at Shiro. “Oh, ha ha. Very funny. You’re lucky I can put up with young disrespectful whippersnappers like you,” he replied, intentionally making his voice sound older and more feeble. 

That got a laugh out of Shiro that made something in Adam’s chest flutter. “Are you kidding? You’re lucky to have me around in general.” 

_That I am, Takashi. That I am_. 

Shiro took Adam’s hand and pulled him up off the bench. “And as I recall, you have a game to get to.” 

Adam sighed as he was practically ushered out of the hall by his best friend. “Don’t remind me. I feel like I’m gonna puke.” 

“That nervous, huh?” Shiro asked as they stepped outside, into the cool morning breeze and the dewy grass, the Quidditch pitch still in sight, even from a distance.

Adam pulled his wand from his robes, muttering “Accio broom” under his breath and letting its sleek black handle make its way to his outstretched hand before answering. “Surprisingly, yeah. It’s stupid, I know, but it’s what I’ve been working toward all summer. I just... don’t want it all to go to waste. Even if it is the first game of the season.” 

Shiro hummed in thought, a few steps ahead of Adam. _Damn those long legs_. “You realize it’s actually _normal_ for most people to get nervous before a game, right? Not to mention it’s only the first game of the season. Even if you don’t win, it’s not the end of the world, and it doesn’t mean you’re a failure. It doesn’t mean you’ve lost the house cup for Slytherin, either. It means you have room for growth, and it means you’ll have another chance to win. Plus, you’re like, the most talented seeker in Slytherin I’ve ever seen—“ 

“—Oh, _stop_ —“ Adam tried to interject, his face tinged with a burning sensation, but Shiro kept on before he could. 

“—And you’re gonna do great even if your team doesn’t win. Okay?” He stopped, turning around and looking at Adam expectantly. “And I’m not letting you go to the pitch until you say it.” 

“How mature of you,” Adam deadpanned, but the feeling of unease in his stomach had long since disappeared. “Do you know how much Professor Ryner would want to kill you? But fine. Okay.”

“Wow, that was an incredibly _sad_ attempt at recognizing your own talent,” Shiro sighed, shaking his head in mock-disappointment. “Come on... say it like you actually mean it.” 

Adam snorted, but before he knew what was happening, Shiro had him in a playful headlock, fluffing up Adam’s hair until it was a mess. “Say it, say it, say it!” He chanted, like a petulant child, until Adam was laughing so much he could hardly breathe. 

“Okay, fine, _fine_! I’m the best keeper in Slytherin and I’m going to do well no matter what the rest of my team does! Are you happy now, Takashi?” 

Shiro let him go, and all of a sudden Adam was slightly sorry that he’d relented so quickly. “Yes, I am. Thank you.” 

They looked at each other for a moment, Adam’s messy hair and cat-eye glasses glinting in the golden morning light, and Shiro’s usually dark eyes were flecked with a color like amber, and suddenly they were much _closer_. It was like the muggle story of Tantalus—the very thing Adam wanted was right there in front of him, so incredibly close, and yet, it— _he_ —was never to be touched, never to be his. Never to _be_. Only to be seen. He didn’t know if his feelings could, or _would_ ever be returned—but it was probably for the best that way. 

In an instant, as quickly as the rest of the world had fallen away, it came rushing back. 

Adam coughed, stepping back from Shiro— _Merlin, when did I get that close to him, anyway?_ — and tried to collect himself. “Well... I should probably get going. See you up in the stands?” 

Shiro seemed like he was back to normal too, but then again... what was normal for the two of them anymore? “You know it. I’ll be the one cheering the loudest,” he said, a small, reflective smile on his face. 

They walked to the outside of the pitch, their shoulders brushing at their sides. There were still a few minutes left until the start of the game. “Well... here goes nothing,” Adam said, as nonchalantly as he could, glancing around the pitch. 

_Here goes nothing, indeed._

“So, do I get a kiss for good luck or what?” he asked, glancing at Shiro with a small smirk. It was something he’d been asking since the beginning of third year—a running gag, if anything else. Usually Shiro would laugh, or roll his eyes, or make some snide comment (“I’ll go with _or what_.”). Most often, it was a combination of the three. 

But not today. 

Shiro sighed and rolled his eyes, but bent down a little, obligingly—and brushed his lips with Adam’s, so soft and feather-light that Adam was sure he’d dreamed it. “Good luck,” Shiro murmured as he pulled away, the amber specks in his eyes dancing in the morning light, before turning and starting up the stairs to where the Hufflepuffs were supposed to sit. 

Adam had never been so red in the face, so happy, or so incredibly confused as he’d stepped out on the field, trying to banish any stray thoughts: _What the HELL was that, Takashi Shirogane?! You ass, you can’t just do this to me right before a game, now I’m going to lose for sure because you distracted me, you little shit, how the hell am I supposed to concentrate on the goddamned game when_ — 

And although his heart was pounding, he wasn’t nervous anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow a thing I actually finished look at me go


End file.
